Iria Aran
by Mara Jade Skywalker
Summary: Background story about a young scientist for the Third Republic...AU


iriaaran

This *can* be a fanfic, so I'm posting it up here. It's the background to a character I made for an RPG. It's actually pretty interesting, so I decided to put it up here. The characters in here are actually all mine, the universe, setting belongs to Petey. Two characters are actually his, X and another that's mentioned. Enjoy, email comments to: MaraJade@rebelspy.net  
  
  


IRIA ARAN: Scientist; Nano Project  
  


_Everyone remembers the great Apocalypse. We were all told from a young age that the Jedi were responsible for thousands upon millions of deaths. But we left before it got too bad. I was born into the Third Republic and taken . . . Taken from . . .  
  
_A sharp sting pierced Iria's arm, breaking her out of her thoughts.  
Stand still, Iria, a male voice instructed her. Iria looked up at the man then straight ahead, closing her eyes. Memories began flashing inside of her, images she didn't remember, things she wasn't supposed to know . . .  
  
_When I was eleven years old, a group of men came, smiling to take me away from my parents. You did well, they said. Did well? On your test. What test, I've taken so many. School after school, teacher after teacher. It's been like that my entire life, I tell them. We know, they say, with small knowing smiles. I stay silent, they don't seem like the talking type. As they take me to their buildings and watch me as I toy with their machines and computers, I wondered if I would ever see my parents again. Eventually, they became such a small memory that they fade away into nothing, prospects of building droids, designing weapons, making the things that I love to make floating in front of my eyes.  
I'm not a bad person, am I? For forgetting my parents? I didn't struggle to get away, but they looked so sad. I'll come back, I told them. At least, if I had remembered, I'd have gone back.  
  
_Iria walked down silver hallways, her booted feet clanking slightly on the cold metal floors. In her arms were folders of papers, some of her designs in the works, spec sheets and calculations. What briefing had she just come back from? She couldn't remember, she could never remember. A newly modified mouse droid trailed after her as she walked. Iria had built the mouse droid about a year ago, modeling it after the old style ones to keep her company. It was lonely where they kept her, she had no one to talk to. Security cameras watched Iria as she made her way to her room.  
I designed those, you know, she said, glancing down at the little droid. The older ones were more prone to being destroyed. She stood still, letting a small scanner scan her eye. It beeped and her door slid open with a hiss. These will actually fight back.  
Iria set her papers down and sat as her desk, pulling out the floor panel from underneath. Inside were the disassembled parts of a pit droid, another old favorite of Iria's. Gathering the parts, she took them to her bed and sat in the pile. Her room was bigger than normal, they gave her special privileges. After all, she _had_ passed all those tests, hadn't she? Iria glanced at her pile, frowning. She rummaged through it, searching for the small gun emplacement she thought she had taken.  
Her mouse droid zipped across the room and stood waiting at the door. _Who was coming?_ she thought. Iria snatched up the pieces (she could always take more later) and put them back. Turning her attention to the door, Iria pressed a button on the inside of the mouse droid's wheel. The middle of the door coalesced into an image of what lay directly in front of her doorway. More officials.  
Hadn't they asked for enough? She opened her door to let them in, shutting down the cameras. They told her to take her papers with her, she was needed for a special project. They took her to a lab and sat her down, consulting another pair of uniformed men over her designs. She was asked questions about her education in the chemical sciences, mechanics, mathematics and physical sciences. They asked for samples of her work. Images didn't convince them as much as physical evidence. Iria knew, that whatever she showed them, there was a good chance she wouldn't get it back. Keeping this in mind, Iria showed them the cameras in the hallways she'd made for the buildings security. Demonstrate, they said.  
Encased in a small room, Iria activated a replica camera and sent a small, oval shaped scouting droid specially equipped with shooting mechanisms inside. Controlling it from a large window on the other side, Iria shot once at the camera and watched as the camera shot back. It kept firing as Iria made the scout droid fly in closer. It gave one final shot and exploded. The heat set off delicate sensors in the camera and almost immediately, a small force field went up as a shield, protecting the camera from the shards and flame of the scout droid.  
One of the officials turned to regard one of Iria's supervisors. And if that doesn't work? he asked mildly.  
Iria overheard and turned on the extinguishers in the ceiling, watching as the nozzles tracked the fiery debris and put it out. A panel in the wall slid open and another droid few in at the side of the camera just as the shield disappeared. Motion detectors sought out the droid. A thick yet small powerful arm popped out of the side of the camera, the tip slightly pointed into a cone, spikes around it. The bast was shaped like a socket. It shot out as the droid, too fast for it to move, razor sharp pins sticking out and into the insides of the droid as the tip of the arm unfolded out into blades, cutting away machinery as as it they turned and spun, strong motors severing the scout droid. The arm was destroyed, but so was the scout droid. And the camera had stayed intact.  
"There are cameras like these all down the halls. Some are visible and others are hidden. One dies, another has footage and equipment ready enough to ward off small attacks." Iria told the officials as she turned to face them.  
"And if there is a bigger attack?"  
Iria raised her brow mildly. "If they get past the I.D. checks or main door, you mean?" She shrugged. "That's never happened, but I'm working on it."  
  
_They told me I would be designing the greatest weapon they'd ever brought into the Third Republic as of yet. I was told that I would be kept under tight security for at least five years. I was taken to rooms with human bodies, experimentations. I'd already dealt with biologically enhanced humans, but nothing on the standards that they were looking for. These were to be different. These would obey command without question, be flexible and with free movement inside of the human body. Death soldiers. Warriors designed to kill or be killed. The nanobot project would be one of my greatest accomplishments._  
  
For a few years, Iria was schooled in the biology of the human body, the genetic code of a few select individuals and the mechanics necessary to make a nano-enhanced human. Finally, she began her project. Failure after failure, trial after trial. Experiments not yet tested were done on Third Republic "volunteers". A thirty year old male would have the best physical output. Too young and his body would not be sufficient enough for the early treatments. _But we can improve that._  
A new body was brought to Iria, already dead. She was to work on him and make it count. Iria sat in her room, a fresh display of nanobot enzymes, test tubes and liquids on her wall. Iria sat at her desk, piecing together a small pit droid. _Must finish this,_ she thought, placing the camera delicately inside of the large lens. The gun was well hidden in the back of the head. Sensory motors, camera, sound equipment, weaponry and detachable head. Her pit droid was doing well. The body was intact, she'd just added a few more modifications. A simple pit droid would never be enough. Each limb could detach and the torso had another gun on the inside along with a tiny self-destruct mechanism. The legs each had one long compartment, big enough to fill a small vile.  
Iria trusted no one here. She went to far too many briefings not knowing what had happened afterwards. She could easily assemble a thousand more droids like this and they wouldn't be able to do much about it. Iria narrowed her eyes in concentration and anger. Whatever it was she was making was _not_ going to be used to "better the Third Republic". Iria stood, placing her finished droid and tools on the desk. _Took me long enough._  
Iria approached her door and stepped outside, her mouse droid following her. It trailed after her, beeping in question.  
"The lab," Iria answered it, glancing down. "We're going to the lab."  
It beeped again.  
"Remember what's in there?" Iria rounded a corner. "Our project is in there."  
The droid beeped long in understanding.  
"Exactly," Iria said. "We're going to check on something."  
  
_I was only seventeen when I worked on specimen 'X'. He had no name, only the serial number type of identification code we had given him. They never told me where we got him from. I assumed he was found or "volunteered". I always wondered what became of him. Exactly how many people he'd been forced to kill._  
  
The lab was a huge, well-lit white and silver room. Equipment lined the walls, beds and tables were on one side, seats with needles in another. There were other rooms, this was one of the larger labs. There were specific rooms for specific things. Iria walked to a set of clear cabinets and opened them up, pushing a button on the table underneath. The small panel lit up and a tray filled with colored viles came out from the bottom of the cabinet. Iria studied the viles and pulled out several, closing the cabinet back up. She took them to another counter and set them down. Iria pulled out a rolling stool and sat herself down. She grabbed another, larger vile from a tall rack beside her and an empty one from a drawer.  
She was tired of experimenting on other humans. Iria poured several well-calculated amounts of each liquid into the empty vile and them slowly turned the contents around, letting them mix together. The nanobots were supposed to set up small "factories" inside of the cells of the individual they were injected into. The only way to know if this worked would have been to experiment on another human. They'd failed before, but it was up to Iria now to see if the modified nanobots would work. Different aspects went into the nanobots. Enhanced muscle tissue and stronger bones were only a couple of the nanobots' good side effects. No one knew yet whether or not the body would overload, reject the modified nanobots, age more quickly or if the nanobots would create a cancer.  
_ We need more time,_ Iria thought angrily. _More time and something other than human to experiment on... we've wasted so much time killing others only to find the perfect example._ They would have to wait a few years for the nanobots to progress and grow successfully, if at all. Iria set the vile of mixed substances down and took another vile out, this one smaller. She went to another drawer and took out a syringe, small cloth and a strap. _ I can't take my own blood out._ Iria looked down at the little mouse droid.  
"Don't suppose you know how to take my blood out."  
The little droid beeped and zipped its way across the floor to one of the chairs. Iria eyed the chair, fingers rubbing the vile in her hand. _The chair should be safe. Just the person operating it . . . _  
"All right," Iria said as she took the syringe over to the chair. She stood in front of it, staring for a moment. The back was bent up, making it look slightly comfortable. The base, where the feet would go, jutted out a little from the rest of the chair. On each armrest were metal straps. Ankle straps were on each side at the base. There was even a neck brace at the top. Iria made a face, still wary about using it. "I didn't make that, did I?" She asked no one in particular as she deactivated a few things, especially paying attention to anything that caused pain. Iria inserted the clean syringe and needle, taking two empty containers out and laying them side by side on the arm rest.  
Iria gingerly sat down on the chair.  
"Better me than someone who can't even talk," Iria muttered, mind wandering to the new specimen they'd brought in a few weeks ago.  
She turned the machine on, dimly aware that her neck was perfectly nestled in the neck brace. Steadily, the machine took out one small tube of blood, waiting until Iria inserted the second container and took another sample. Removing her items from the chair and putting the original setting back, Iria took her two blood samples and went to the counter with the mixed substance. Closing them both up, Iria used another needle to inject the appropriate amount of the mixed substance into one container.  
Iria instructed the mouse droid. A panel on the top slid open and Iria inserted the vile inside. She put the rest of the mixed substance and the blood into another compartment.  
Iria stood and walked out of the lab, making her way down another hall.  
a polite male voice called from behind her.  
Iria turned around, the little mouse droid stopped with her.  
You're wanted at a meeting. It's only just started.  
Iria put on a smile and followed. _I'll finish it later. There's no rush._ The meeting was boring. Two hours of discussing how the nanotreatment was going. How much more money was going to be used on it. Iria pulled out her small datapad and placed it on her lap. She pushed a button and a small visual popped up of specimen X'. From here, she could go into each area of him that had already been worked on or was still in need of work. Iria began writing out small notes, making minor changes as she listened to the meeting with half an ear. Ideas kept on popping into her head so she continued to write and record her modifications. Belatedly, she hit a button on the bottom of the mouse droid's torso with her foot, setting the recording device into working mode.  
  
_I wasn't the only one working on a nano enhanced superhuman. Another team in a twin building was designing and working on their own. Which would win', they joked. Which would be better?'. Bets were made, the public didn't know. Not until either was released would anyone else know.  
  
_Nearly two years had passed and Iria had already injected herself with a small portion of nanobots. The side effect she knew of was designed to keep her youthful appearance going. But she didn't know what else she had done to herself. Without full nano treatment she was unsure. The entire experiment was shoddy, Iria thought as she walked with her mouse droid and pit droid to the room where they kept her work in progress. A few days ago, she'd had another briefing. It frustrated her not to be able to remember much of anything besides her work. For so long, her work had been her life, all that she had known. Fellow scientists provided her with no comfort or companionship. She was alone and had been for so long. _I can't even remember the last time I confided in an actual person!  
_Iria sat herself down in a chair and placed the inactivated pit droid in her lap. The mouse droid stopped at her feet, the door to the room was securely locked. A panel in the top of the mouse droid opened up. Iria pulled out her datapad and a new memory chip. She replaced the old one, setting that one inside of the mouse droid. She plugged the datapad into the main computer that stored all of specimen X's information. It would take awhile to download it all, so Iria would wait. Turning to face the floating X', Iria sighed and sat back.  
I'm Iria, Iria said, introducing herself to the man. If I could shake your hand, I would. She smiled then looked down at the mouse droid. Iria bent down and picked it up, taking something out from the wheel.  
This is a small name randomizer, Iria said, holding up a small, rectangular object. It's got every possible name, male and female, starting with the letter She smiled again, but the smile faded. _He can't hear you_.  
Well I'm going to choose a name for you. The man continued to float, eyes closed. He had pretty blonde hair. Iria pushed a button on the side of the tiny screen. she made a face. Iria pressed the button quite a number of times more, not even bothering to look at the names. She released her finger and Xavior' appeared on the screen. Iria looked up at specimen X', tilting her head to the side. 'Xavior' sounds like a good soldier's name, doesn't it? She looked to the mouse droid. What do you think? The little droid beeped in approval. Hmmm . . . Iria activated the pit droid and set it on the ground. What about you? Xavior' sound good? The pit droid wobbled slightly, then shook its head as it tried to gain some balance. It walked to the bacta tank and zoomed its eye lens in at X', making noises. Iria raised an eyebrow. The pit droid giggled slightly and nodded.  
  
_The cyborgs weren't the only thing I worked on. I was a scientist for the Third Republic. I designed superweapons, bioweapons and everyday 3R soldier wear. Specially designed bugs were left on planets to destroy the plantlife and ruin the soil. Others were inhaled, incubated themselves in the mouth and slowly made their way down into the lungs where they would chew their way out. Thin, thread sized worms would seep their way into your pores and feed on your blood, engorging themselves so much that the blood would begin to pour and flow into them rather than past your veins. There were parasites that could inject you with a narcotic or depressant and while you were sleeping, their true poison would seep in and attack spinal fluids. Stimulants that would greatly accelerate your physiological activity in a few seconds, causing a heart attack and physical break down. Computers with safety devices would attack a person who didn't have proper access. Everyday machines would be equipped with needles, guns, acids, lasers.  
A security device for the entrance to the labs had an eye scanner and a palm panel. Put the wrong palm down and needles would inject through the hand, locking it in place until you stopped screaming and decided to pick your hand up. Put the wrong eye in front of the scanner and a sharp laser would blind you permanently. But those were just a few of the things I'd designed for the Third Republic . . .I would continue to talk to Xavior' for the following year. I was alone, with my droids as my only companions. It was nice to have someone to talk to that would ask nothing of me. Could you hear in bacta? It was sad that he would never talk back until he woke up. If then, I didn't know if he would ever talk back. He was dead when they found him, would he even remember? Would he even care?_  
  
Iria sat in her room, finishing a sketch of Xavior that she'd started on one of her visits to his room. It was a bust drawing of him in the tank. She smiled and brushed away her erasings. She added her signature at the bottom, dated it and rolled it up.  
She tapped her pencil lightly on her desk, glancing at the new pile of folders sitting in front of her. Her pit droid was walking back and forth from her drawers to the floor underneath her desk. Iria had her legs up under her so the droid could walk undisturbed. She glanced down and watched as it picked up small personal items of her own and deposited them into the space under her desk.  
She smiled. What are you doing? The droid bent over, dumping an armfull of hair pins into the hole. It looked up at her and started to chatter away, pointing to the door, to the drawer and back to the hole. Iria raised an eyebrow. Um . . . wow. I didn't understand a word of that. The droid tilted its head to the side and made a noise. It chirped loudly then scrambled onto Iria's desk, pulling out some paper and grabbing her pencil. It pointed the pencil at her in a conversational manner and began to make little scribbles on the paper, talking all the while.  
It paused and looked back at Iria, pointing the pencil at the scribbles.  
Iria laughed. I can't read that! The little droid put up its little arms in defeat and exasperation. It sat down, holding the pencil. Hmmm . . . Iria eyed the droid, then picked it up. The droid held onto her arms, looking around, being quite used to being picked up at random by Iria. I think we can fix that . . .  
Over the next two weeks, Iria designed a small chip to insert into herself so that she would understand binary and be able to control her droids through with them. Iria would also be able to see through them if necessary, but she knew how dangerous for herself that could be. Death of a droid would probably cause her temporary if not full blindness . . .It wasn't too hard to convince one of the surgeons to install the chip into her head for her. Of course, she'd had to lie to do it, but like they would know anyway . . . It would take a few weeks for the nanobots to help the little chip adjust to her brain and nerves so she would be out for that time. It reminded her a lot of the small watchdog device she'd had to put into Xavior' when he was created four years ago.  
  
_My last talk with Xavior was right before my surgery. I would be asleep when they took him out of the tank and employed him into working for the Third Republic. When I was up and ready to go again X was gone and I had no one else to talk to. Our operations moved shortly after to another building and I worked on more cyborgs as the years passed. I watched as my colleagues grew older and newer ones joined us. It was amazing how many people you'd meet in in over half a century . . .   
  
_They want more, you know, Iria said to her pit droid as she sat hunched over her desk, piecing together something. A small lamp was lit in front of her, illuminating her work space. The droid sat on her bed, holding one of the already made machines. It was a small silverish ball, a small antenna coming out through one side. It made a small questioning noise. Iria nodded. They love their soldiers too much. Iria glanced around her desk for something, opening up a drawer and still not finding it. The pit droid hopped off the bed, holding the ball in one hand. It walked to Iria's desk and picked a small screw off the floor and handed it to her. She smiled as she took it. You don't think they're for the better of the Third Republic, do you? She finished and sat back, grinning as she held up another small silver ball.  
Come on, Iria said, getting up from her desk. She took the little ball and walked to her door. It was unnecessary to talk to her droids, but it'd become a habit of hers. she told the mouse droid. Iria stepped outside of her room and grabbed her lab coat, putting it on as she walked. As she turned a corner, she tossed the ball in the air and stared hard at it, making sure she had complete control. The little ball floated in the air, hovering in front of her eyes. She let a small smile cross the corner of her lips then began walking away from it. She sent the ball flying down the hallways and slipped herself into one of the meeting rooms. It was easy to disable the cameras from where she was, making the occurrence look as random as possible. She would, of course, be asked to help in fixing them later. But she'd deal with that when it came. Iria sat down and put her pit droid on the table in front of her.  
The little silver ball flew down the hallways, sending Iria the visuals it received as it received them so the droid was virtually an extra eye. Down it went into more hallways, spying on people as it went, sending Iria everything. Her periodic spy sessions would go on. At first there wasn't much she found out. But as time would go by, she'd learn more about the ever so grand Third Republic and its prized cyborgs.  
The small droids were easy for Iria to construct and she made herself an abundant supply of them. Not all were full out little spies. There were others, some were poisoned filled, others had drills, explosives, some shocked. There were some that shot small needles at you, others with similar needles, but with fish-hook like ends once inserted into the flesh. Lamps, tranquilizers... But there were others. Much more. Iria Aran's Spy Droids. SAID then, each specially designed so that only Iria could stop them.  
Iria sat herself down in a supply closet, her pit droid again with her. She had sent her first SAID droid out to spy for her again. It flew outside of the building this time, following one of the heads of her building. The light was bright outside and Iria reflexively narrowed her eyes slightly to help adjust. The droid followed closely behind the man as he waited in front of a speeder with a few suited men coming out. Iria said quietly. The droid went around the man, staying out of his line of sight. It flew to the side of the speeder, trying to stay low. But one of the guards saw it, drew up his gun and shot it.  
Iria gasped and grabbed at her face, covering her eyes. A sharp pain lanced from her eyes to her temples, causing her to curl up and fall off her seat, knocking down several boxes of equipment with her. Her pit droid squeaked and scrambled to her side, chattering away, waving its hands madly in the air. Iria held her eyes shut, hissing through her teeth as she slowly pushed herself up. The pit droid grabbed at her coat and pulled the corner up, giving it to Iria as a bandage.  
She sat up, pushing back more boxes with her. The pit droid let go of the cloth and beeped quietly at her. She groaned, moving her hands, eyes still squeezed shut. Don't ever die on me. The droid moaned quietly. Iria opened her eyes and blinked a few times. The pain was gone now, leaving the memory. She looked to the pit droid, but she couldn't see anything around the blotches that had appeared in front of her. Oh God, don't say I'm going blind... The droid beeped again, going over to a box, looking for any type of medicine.  
No, I think I'm fine . . . Iria rubbed her eyes. I think it's going away . . . She blinked a few times, standing herself up. It's ok, don't mess up anymore boxes or they'll get mad, Iria said glancing down at the little droid, trying to tell exactly where it was. It was halfway inside of one box and looked back at her, beeping. I'm having a little trouble seeing . . . She caught a picture of herself through the silver poles on a rack against the wall. Oh God . . . She brought her face closer, her brow furrowing slightly as she struggled to see what she thought she saw.  
She shook her head. _I'm seeing things_, she thought as she opened the door and stumbled out. The pit droid held on to her pant leg and carefully walked her back to her room. After a couple of hours of rest, her eyes were better and her vision cleared. One look in a mirror told her that she hadn't been seeing things before. Her dark blue eyes had blotches of gold tint where she had seen the blind spots earlier.  
You're not dying on me . . . Iria grabbed her pit droid again and began tinkering with it. There must have been something wrong with the droid to have injured _her_ like that. Something in the feedback of information. _Stupid,_ Iria thought. _It's not the droid . . . It's YOU. Connected to optical nerves . . _. Iria glanced at the pile of balls inside a rather large box. She'd have to worry about them ALL dying . . .  
  
_I began to get restless. I would forget what I had made the droids to do in the first place and have to wait for my memory to catch up to me. On one occasion I finally caught word of what it was my cyborgs were doing. But another one of my made me forget. I was busied with more projects. I continued to work on building better, stronger, faster nanobots. I did work on other fully completed cyborgs, but not every one of them. There were so many, it was impossible for me to have made them all. But I did help design the blueprints for their new toys. They wanted more, though. Better, they said. Faster. I worked hard to make a new nanobot treatment that would work faster than the years it had taken Xavior to adjust to. I heard that the new treatment hadn't been too successful . . . Only one man hadn't died. I kept blueprints and special parts for every one of my SAID droids, my pit droid and my mouse droid. Should any of them be destroyed, I could easily build another to the exact liking.  
_  
Iria stalked down the silver hallways, her mouse droid trailing speedily after her. Her eyes were narrowed in anger. Too many briefings! Too many things that she could never remember. Just to be safe, Iria had emptied out her mouse droid and hid all of her things. Her datachips were her most precious possessions. They held all of her information. Everything she would need minus the parts to construct anything that she had ever built again. Iria stormed into an office marked occupied'. Pity, she would be intruding on a meeting.  
Several officials looked up when she entered, two guards making their way towards her from the side.  
Iria, you know better than to come in to one of these meetings, one of them said.  
What am I making? she asked angrily, forcing her way past the guards as she walked more inside of the room. The guards walked faster and grabbed her by the arms.  
The man who had spoken before shook his head quietly at the guards and looked up at Iria. The men let her go. You are making equipment for the Third Republic to use, Iria, he said, voiced laced gently as a father talking to a child.  
The hell with that, she snarled. You know what I'm asking. What are my men doing?  
The man looked off to the side. A small hand motion sent a third guard out past Iria.  
Iria almost laughed. She knew what they were trying to do. Another briefing? Another set of memories gone? Answer me, she said, bringing her voice lower.  
The man stood slowly. he said, shaking his head. Your men have died, failed. The mouse droid, which had stayed at Iria's feet since she entered, beeped angrily at the man and sped its way towards him. The man frowned slightly and raised his eyes up to one of the guards. Kill it.  
The screech was loud, but stopped shortly. Pieces of the broken mouse droid lay scattered on the floor. Iria's light brown roots shot through with white as she cried out.  
When she woke up, she was being strapped into a chair, her neck already secure, her arms and ankles were being strapped down.  
We're very disappointed in you Iria, the same voice from before said. Groggily, Iria looked to the side. No, I'm not there. She could almost hear him smiling. Injecting yourself with nanobots, were you, Iria? She looked to the front and observed two men finishing up securing her ankles in place. One came back with a needle. _No, Oh no . . ._ Iria blinked, trying to wake herself up. _Leave, go! Go away!_ Who was she talking to? We still need you Iria, you're too good for us to kill. The man in front of her tested the needle, the liquid squirting out from the end. Once you've been successfully sedated, we will use your own technology to make sure that you won't rebel against us again. You will design better men. We can guarantee you that.  
_What was he talking about? Cyborgs? I can't be a cyborg . . ._ The man with the needle came closer to Iria. She struggled against the straps. _Leave! Get away!_ The needle pierced her arm.  
Stand still, Iria, the invisible voice said. Iria looked up at the man who was injecting her and then straight ahead, closing her eyes . . .  
  
_They had planned on turning me into one of their cyborgs. One of their machines, working for them like a good little scientist, spitting out information for them as much and often as they liked. They didn't know the nanobots, _I_ did. What I had been injected with over the years by myself helped me ward off most of the effects of the injection I'd been given that day. But my memory was gone, just like another one of their briefings. I would remember again, but this time it would take longer. And I didn't know how long. My pit droid and everything I needed was put inside of two suitcases. The bare minimum was packed inside each along with several thousands of Third Republic currency. I had hidden them inside of one of the loading trucks where they would be taken off planet and shipped to another Third Republic world where I would be able to pick them up. I was able to escape from the Medical wing after a riot outside of the building distracted a good amount of the guards. There were too many to just walk out, but I still made it. I had been injected with more nanobots . . . They were more serious than I thought they were.  
Gathering my cases and droid was easy. Now to find a world where I wouldn't be bothered by Third Republic messengers . . ._


End file.
